


She's Leaving Home

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Other, oh god my sleep schedule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9871934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: I really should get to fucking sleep god damn it





	

‘Holy shit, I’ve got to go! School!’ I bolted up and grabbed my dress.  
‘Hazel, it’s OK. It’s Friday and you’ve been sick.’ John said, gesturing towards the bucket by my bed. I thanked myself for not putting my foot in it, and wondered why it was there. Maybe I didn’t feel right and I grabbed a bucket in case I did do what I had. John must have been in here, and noticed I was about to vomit, nothing was on the floor.  
‘Or so they’ll think.’ John finished, and maybe I hadn’t.  
‘Uh…’ I said, feeling the dissociation headache hit.  
‘And that’s another thing.’ John said, not even glancing at me. ‘I mocked up the bucket and vomit to give your parents the impression you’re sick, but it’s a trick. I’ve never forgotten that skill.’  
‘Now what?’ I asked, truthfully.  
‘Pack a bag, get dressed, we’ve got to go.’ John said, arms flapping all over the place. I sat for a moment to wait for him to leave, and I leapt up to grab out some clothes, but for how long? What would we be doing? Maybe just jeans, T-shirts and hoodies. I grabbed out a suitcase and packed everything inside, and then with some books. Entire series of books. I was very fast at packing, particularly when I didn’t have Mum repacking what I decided to pack. I grabbed out my small backpack, and put in three more books, the contents of my handbag, and my drawing equipment. I suddenly realised I would need my phone and my computer, so I put the computer and both cords in the big suitcase, closing it back up again. I had a shower, got dressed in my favourite K-9 shirt and my most comfortable hoodie. I pulled on my socks and Converses, put on my hat, and made sure I had my glasses with me.  
‘I’m ready.’ I said to John.  
‘Got your passport?’ he checked.  
‘Yes.’  
‘Are you sure you’ve got everything? Go check.’ John continued. I knew I may not be back for a while, so I did. I realised I couldn’t leave my two toy dogs, Jack and Cleo. I was such a baby, but I had to shove them into my backpack. I knocked over my mandolin case. Maybe I could bring that! I picked it up and brought everything out to the front door.  
‘Hazel, how much money do you have? I’m running short.’ John said.  
‘You’re a rubbish date.’ I smirked, and thought about it. ‘I know where I can get some. Be right back.’ I said, leaping into a run that lead me to my mum’s ‘secret’ money hole. I took out $150 and hoped for the best. ‘We’ll have to stop in town first.’ I said as John lead me out into the street. I knew these streets well, but going by on foot was a different experience. It wasn’t too far to what must have been a rental car.  
‘I didn’t think you’d have a rental car. Maybe a motorbike but not a car.’ I said to John. He ‘hm’ed in reply. I refused his offer of help lifting my bags into the boot, and it was off to the bank. I left with $300 less in my account than at that time the previous day. My parents wouldn’t be too happy about any of what was happening, but I trusted John, a man that had helped me through so many dark times. Out to the airport, booking a cheap flight to Melbourne; waiting for the hour or so, sipping iced chocolates from the coffee stall. I tried to sleep the flight, but I couldn’t sleep during travel, the movements and the anticipation. After quite a few nasty bits in the airport, we finally made it out.  
‘Where exactly are we going?’ I asked.  
‘Wait a sec… ooh, we’ve been there. Town Hall.’ John said, checking the messages. Catching a bus into the city, realising how bad the traffic could be. The Town Hall loomed, and I kept an eye out for a face I knew oh so well. John suddenly raised an arm and waved at a figure in pale blue sitting on a bench. Speedwalking over there, my excitement mounted. I was meeting someone I truly admired and was inspired by. And they were supposed to be dead.  
‘George! How are you?’ John greeted the extraordinarily young looking George. He looked like he did in A Hard Day’s Night, except in a pale blue shirt and blue jeans.  
‘Good, you? How long has it been anyway?’ George said in his accent. He still had his accent.  
‘I’m good, and I think it was 1976.’ John replied. The two men were talking like old friends, which they were, and I cleared my throat.  
‘Oh, and George, this is someone you’ve talked to online, and her name is Hazel. Hazel, I think you already know who this is.’ John introduced me.  
‘Nice to meet you.’ George said with a smile, looking me up and down. I wasn’t sure if that was OK.  
‘Likewise. I also didn’t expect that you’d be on the hellsite, watching the fandom.’ I said.  
‘I didn’t mean to, y’know, I fell into it…’  
‘No need to explain. I can’t believe I’m meeting you!’ I was grinning by now. I then remembered some of the things I’d said about him, but it looked like he was too nice of a person, even in death. I shooed those thoughts away and concentrated on the here and now.  
~To Be Continued~


End file.
